Nightmare
by BrazenMonkey
Summary: Thanos is one to keep his promise. To make him suffer, to make his heart bleed. And he knows exactly where Loki's heart truly lies.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **

**Hey you guys, I hope you are all doing well! **

**This little piece was written after I watched the Avengers with a good friend of mine (who found it 'quite okay'...!). Anyway, she mentioned she was wondering what could be worse than simple pain as Thanos had promised Loki. Being the tasertricks shipper that I am, I decided to turn her question into a shortcut. What started as a drabble turned into this piece. And some scenes were kind of difficult to write, believe me!**

**Inspired more or less by the scene in 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows' I took the quote from.  
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**Rated M for sexual content and violence.  
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**Feel free to leave a review and your honest opinion!  
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**EDIT: Sorry to disappoint but this will not be continued!  
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* * *

"_I have seen your heart and it is mine._"

_Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

He wants to close his eyes but he knows it would not help. This is all in his head.

He is forced to watch, forced to endure. After all, this is what Thanos has planned.

After all, Loki should have known that Thanos is one to keep his promise.

He doesn't know how the monster finds him, nor does he care. All he knows is that he was promised a fate worse than death.

The torture comes first, the pain he has almost expected to face. The pain he is not afraid of.

What comes next is what truly makes his heart flutter.

"I wonder, Odinson, if there is nothing you cherish anymore, if there is nothing you hope for anymore, now that your plans have miserably failed, what do you have to lose? It seems to me you have gotten rid of all weaknesses that might be used against you..." Thanos' voice trails off but he cannot betray the trickster himself.

There is an image flickering through Loki's head but he tries to hide it, to shield it from the monster's omniscience.

The laughter that reaches his ears sends shivers down his spine. _He knows._

"Oh, but it seems that I have been mistaken! There is something you still long for, someone you have dreamt of, have you not?" A purple hand covered in foul skin clenches his jaw and forces Loki to look up.

The body that materializes in front of him is small but very rich, deep curves, long lazy curls of auburn hair, skin like unblemished marble, plush lips in a naturally rose shade, sapphire eyes.

_Darcy_. Her can taste her name on his tongue yet his voice is bound. Inside his head, he tries to hide the memories her face awakens.

Again that low chuckle from his violator. "Oh, I see."

Thanos presses at the boundaries of his mind and Loki can't help but let him in, there is no escape from the intrusion. There is a mingle of memories and perceptions, the brush of Darcy's hand when she hands him his coffee, the warmth of her body when she was standing almost too close to him than one time in the lab, her own fragrance when she combs through her curls, that colourful scent of vanilla and honey, the sound of her voice when she laughs at one of his comments, the kind gaze of her eyes when he is overheard in discussions – and the barely tangible sensation that runs through him as he relives these moments, a sensation he has kept carefully hidden, cherished and hold on to in the dark, lonely moments of his new life.

Thanos laughs and his hand presses deeper into Loki's jaw, his sharp fingernails leaving marks on his neck. "Well, well, son of Odin, could this be called affection?"

Underneath the claws, Loki swallows. The question is rhetorical, of course. He is bound, unable to move, unable to answer.

"You were thinking of her a lot, were you?"

The mirage in front of the trickster's eyes cocks her head, her vacant gaze still focussed on his face. But there is no recognition. And why would there be? After all, this is just an illusion. She might look like the real Darcy, but her eyes lack what made Loki remember them in the first place – the warmth. The warmth that was maybe meant for him, as he had dared to hope

"You thought she felt the same way, didn't you?" His voice is raspy, and yet almost slick with disdain. Another one of the creature's sharp nails thrums into his skin, rips the thin layer that covers his pulse and quickly the warm blood drips down his neck.

"Do not fool yourself. You have seen the way she hangs around _him_ as well. Her kindness towards you? Just a way of charming herself into his bed. After all, we both know she wouldn't be the first one to do so."

Thanos doesn't need to more precise. Strong, big hands find their way around Darcy's waist and out of the darkness, a familiar face with long, blonde hair and strikingly blue eyes moves along the line of her neck.

_Thor_.

"You should think that after all these years, you'd have learned your lesson."

Thor's hands scoot down Darcy's stomach and disappears beneath her shirt, his palms cupping her breast, his lips and teeth tending to her neck. The woman in his arms responds with a liquid sigh and leans into his touch.

"Did you really think she would choose you?" A low chuckle accompanies Thanos' comment.

Thor moves to rip off her clothes in a hurried frenzy while turning the young woman in his arms. With one leap, Darcy jumps into his grasp, her arms around his brother's neck, her lips pressed onto Thor's whose hands support her curvy backside.

_Make it stop_, Loki wants to beg but it is useless.

The sight he is presented with makes his vile boil inside his gut and yet his gaze is fixed on what Thanos wants him to see. How his brother's hands touch all of the young woman's pale skin, his rough fingers skimming over her breast and between her legs, a move followed by another moan from Darcy.

"Did you imagine that, for once, _you_ would be the one desired?" the heavy voice echoes in his head.

Part of his mind notices his surrounding changes, from the darkness of whatever place Thanos has conjured him to to a vaguely lit room, the two lovers on a bed, their hands pulling and pushing. Loki feels omnipresent, yet invisible as he watches his brother push the girl he has longed for down onto the mattress, how she opens herself completely up for the God hovering over her.

He watches Thor move down to bury himself between Darcy's legs, one of her legs draped loosely over his shoulder, the other one moving up and down the mattress as his brother moves along her sex, his large palms massaging her heaving breasts, pinching her nipples.

Loki's throat feels heavy and drained and all he wants is to scratch out his eyes, to rip off his ears, to cut out his heart, anything just to stop the sound and the sight of his brother having what he would not get – and the woman he wants enjoying it. How Thor gets to do what he has wanted to do all along. But he is paralyzed by fear, by disgust and of course, by Thanos' power.

The sighs and whimpers soon turn into breathy moans and Darcy pulls Thor's hair with passion, pulling him up to kiss her, to taste his victory off of his lips and they sit up, Darcy on his thighs, pushing down on him which earns her a muttered Norse curse that Loki wishes he would not understand.

_This is just a trick_, he keeps telling himself. _Just an illusion. None of this ever happened. She is not like that._

Thanos answers his chanting thoughts with a contemptuous snort. "You thought this time was going to be different, I assume. That she would not be blinded by him."

His brother and Darcy are still mingled together in a sweaty heap of limbs, his teeth nipping the delicate skin of her cleavage and her sensitive buds, her face pressed into his large shoulder, one hand buried between their two bodies, massaging her clit, amplifying her own high, her other one holding onto Thor's tense neck, scratching down his back, _marking_ him.

Somehow, Thanos is right next to Loki, his foul breath stroking his ear while he whispers: "Have you not understood by now? This is what they all want – and you are just the means to that particular end."

Suddenly, Darcy's eyes snap open, her blue eyes disturbingly clear, her iris widened with adrenaline. He can hear the race of her heart, muffled somehow, like he was underwater.

"This will never be you." Thanos snickers and licks his lips. "This _could_ never be you."

_She is not real This is not real._ And yet he can't help but wonder whether there is truth in what Thanos shows him. Is this just meant to be the torture he had promised Loki should he fail? Or is he presented with an inevitable truth, just shown to him to make him face reality?

He doesn't know the answer. And it pains him far more than any of the wounds that map his tormented carcass. He has believed the feelings he had to be mutual. But now he is faced with belief's arc enemy – doubt. And it rips apart the tiny spark of hope he has.

Every sound Darcy makes makes him bleed inwardly. She closes her eyes again and he can sense how her body tenses like a string beneath a bow. How the pleasure someone else gives her rushes through her.

"Thor..." she sighs lustfully. "I'm coming!"

* * *

"I'm coming!"

Darcy paces down the hall, jumps the two steps that separate the nursery from the staircase and rushes through the open door.

She is greeted by an assembly of half of the Avengers team, Thor, Steve Rogers, Doctor Banner, as well as Jane. Apparently, Tony, Natasha and Clint are still on duty.

"You called, I'm here, at your service as usual." Darcy wheezes and tries to catch her breath. The tiny pang in her ribcage is soon forgotten when she turns to face Thor who looks up from a heated conversation with the Captain. Deep wrinkles that scream 'worry' cover his usually sunny face.

"Darcy! I am glad you have been able to appear this quickly at this nightly hour." Thor's deep voice announces and he turns towards her.

"Don't worry, big guy. Who needs full eight hours of sleep anyway?" she grimaces but there is no answering reply from anyone. Her stomach starts to drop a few inches when she sees the anger on Jane's face.

"What's wrong?"

Thor takes a deep breath but it is Bruce who answers her. "We received an emergency call tonight from one of the rooms SHIELD provides for its members. Loki's room. The detectors sensed unusually high levels of…" He pauses, unsure of the word to choose. "... well, let's call it his magic." He rights his glasses and continues. "He was brought here and Thor, Steve and I were called here, or rather we were the ones who answered the call."

Darcy's guts start to flip. "And what was wrong? Was he attacked?" she asks, trying to disguise her worry with curiosity.

There is an angry huff from Jane. "This is the first thing you suspect?"

Thor deeply inhales again and faces his lover. "I know that you distrust my brother – for good reasons!" He adds quickly as Jane opens her mouth to retort. "But this seems to be different."

It is Steve who interferes. "Anyway, we found him sleeping, or at least that is what we assumed. His temperature was way too high and he looked like he was having massive seizures. He was brought to the infirmary because we were unable to wake him up from whatever state he was in. And of course for him to be under constant surveillance."

He slicks back his perfect deep blonde hair and glances at Doctor Banner. "We are actually on our way to the main lab, trying to analyse the data the detectors recorded. Maybe we can find out what triggered it." His glance and comment are answered with a silent nod from the doc.

Steve stretches his shoulders and, with a gallant nod, moves to the door, accompanied by the ever stoically calm Bruce Banner.

Darcy catches herself gnawing at her bottom lip and tries to relax. Still. she feels like there is an important piece of this puzzle she's missing.

"Listen, don't get me wrong but let's face it, this stuff is way over my pay rate. Isn't this kind of classified material? Why am I here?"

Somehow, a small smile manages to steal upon Thor's face. "Your presence is requested for two reasons. I hope you do not mind my impertinence but you have shown much more kindness towards my brother than anyone else. And I feel that he has taken to you, too." Thor's eyes gleam with gratitude.

That would explain Jane's sour face. She has never been a huge fan of Thor's wayward little brother – in contrast to Darcy. And apparently, her affection has not been as subtle as she had hoped. The heat that creeps up Darcy's cheeks feels like two burning light bulbs placed inside her cheeks. _Busted_. She clumsily clears her throat to avoid the awkward silence.

"And the second reason?" she asks timidly.

Now the smile is completely gone from Thor's kind face. Jane scrunches her nose and makes a face that looks a lot like the one she puts on when one of her equations works out – but not the way she wants them to. But, much to Darcy relief, she keeps her comments to herself. It is not in her nature to be cheeky.

Thor sighs. "He has uttered a few words in course of his delusional state. And one of them was your name."

_Say what?_ "My name?"

* * *

The Loki she sees in the infirmary bed is almost an exact copy of the Loki the Avengers had brought from their trip to New York.

His pale skin, usually light with a subtle glow, is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, all remaining colour drained from his face. The look on his face is a look of fear, hurt and anguish. He doesn't look like he is just asleep. He looks like he is having the nightmare of his life. The brows furrowed, his lips white immovable lines, his fine traits all wrong. It pangs Darcy to see him like this.

"But... he is in pain, isn't he? Is there nothing you can do?" she whispers as she takes place on the little stool next to the bed, her teeth again grinding on her bottom lip.

Thor shakes his head. "Doctor Banner has tried to explain it to me. His body has not been harmed. Yet he seems to feel pain. There is this untraceable force that keeps him in this state and unless this force retreats, he is not able to escape the pain he feels. He is not awake nor is he asleep."

Darcy needs to swallow the bulge in her throat. "You mean, this is all just happening in his head?"

Thor's broad shoulders rise, then fall again. "If I did not know any better, I would say he is trapped in his own head which he cannot escape unless he wakes up. There is no way for us to contact him or to help." An unusual tone of frustration and worry colours his words. For someone who is used to fight an enemy with a body to attack, this must be hard to bear. Especially if it is your younger brother who is getting hurt.

Darcy is unable to take her eyes off Loki. "Can he hear us?"

Again, Thor shrugs. "We do not know. But, and this is why I have asked for you presence, I am willing to believe that he may react."

Jane, who has taken place next to Thor, has exchanged her grumpy expression with a tired look of exhaustion.

"We want you to talk to him. To stay, just to be here. Maybe a familiar voice, the presence of someone he... values will help him to fight whatever is hurting him." Her words are stiff with disapproval but Darcy shoves it aside.

"I will do my best." She promises and somehow her hands finds its way on the bed to hold Loki's twitching one.

Thor and Jane exchange looks but they don't say a thing.

The God of thunder absentmindedly scratches his chin. "I think it would be best for us to leave you alone to your task. In case there is anything you wish for, do not hesitate to call for us. We will be waiting in the next room."

Jane gives Darcy one last look, a mixture of sympathy and concern, then leaves. Thor follows but in the door way, he stops and turns a last time.

"Thank you, Darcy. It warms my heart to know there is someone who appreciates Loki for who he is." He does not wait for her response and maybe he knows she doesn't know what to say. He follows Jane silently and closes the door.

The silence is deafening and yet somehow comforting. All her tiredness from before is forgotten given the sight she is presented with.

How often has she imagined being alone with him? Ever since his dark humour, his vibrant confidence and his cunning wit have charmed their way into her head. How often has she imagined holding his hand like this? How often has she hoped that the little signs – his kind smile when she brings him coffee, the spark in his eyes when he catches her staring at him, his politeness towards her – could mean something?

Maybe this is her chance to make it happen.

She leans in and, still holding his cold palm in her hand, takes a deep breath. Then she starts talking.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm incorrigable. I ought to do uni stuff, and I never intended to continue/complete this. But hey, I guess my head had other plans!**

**A gift to all you wonderful people. Unbeta'd.**

**Rated M for a reason. Mentioning of rape, torture and sexual themes.**

**Enjoy and feel free to review!**

**Soundtrack: TheUnsungHeroine - Radioactive (Piano Cover), check , she does beautiful cover versions.**

* * *

"Loki? Can you hear me?"

Immediately, she wants to smack her head. Yeah, like this wouldn't be something Thor had tried before.

She looks down at their joined hands, their pale skins, her painted raspberry nails, his long and elegant fingers.

"Funny, this is the first time I am not speechless in your presence. Or rather the first time that I don't blabber like a moron and make a complete fool of myself. Which doesn't help with nervousness the next time we speak. And doesn't really make a good impression."

A muscle in his neck tenses and Darcy sucks in her breath.

"It is kind of your fault, you know? Believe it or not, you are kinda intimidating. All tall, lean, dark, smart, …" She smiles and somehow hopes he will feel it.

It vanishes the second a groan tries to break through his gritted teeth. Her grips on his hand tightens and again, the helplessness takes hold of her. What could she possibly say to make this end?

What if he will not wake up ever again? She never even had the chance to approach him, to really talk to him, to _act_.

"This is not fair, you know? I mean, I think I at least deserve a chance to be rejected, to make a complete fool of myself – not that I wouldn't do that pretty much all the time – but properly, in front of you. Please, just wake up and let me have my chance."

Yeah, that will cheer him up: _Wake_ _up from your mind-game to let the crazy girl have her go._

He twists again and her chest constricts. Darcy tries to chase off the fear and clasps the ice-cold hand in her palm even tighter. Let him know someone is here. God, how can someone break out in sweat and still have a hand like an icicle?

An exhausted moan escapes his lips and Darcy leans closer. She feels like a voyeur and it crosses her mind that, should he ever wake up, he will get pretty pissed at her for watching him being torn apart in his sleep. Kinda creepy if you think about it.

"Darcy…"

Her head snaps up. "Loki?"

But he is silent as before.

He said her name – no doubt. There are little things that sound like her name, and she'd recognize these five letters tumbling from those perfect lips no matter how lowly they were uttered.

She leans in to the man at her side. "Loki, do you hear me? Don't you dare fall into a godly coma or Lokisleep or whatever you guys do when you pass out! I'm not having that crap!"

Her voice gains a little bit of strength and she thinks of Thor who waits outside, his hands just as bound as hers. He already thought he lost his little brother once and she cannot bear the idea of being the one to say that he has lost him a second time.

Unconsciously, she reaches for Loki's cheek, just as cold as his hand, and timidly caresses the fine bone beneath the frozen skin.

His skin is so smooth it startles her and out of an impulse, her head bends to make her lips and his other cheek meet, the warmth of her mouth against the icy touch of his skin.

* * *

His brain has long lost control over his perceptions. He only sees what Thanos wants him to see, wants him to hear, wants him to feel.

He blinks and the tangled lovers disappear only to be replaced by the darkness that surrounded him first. _See no evil_, Loki thinks. But evil still can speak.

"Then again, even if she does not _choose_ you, what keeps you from just taking what you want?" His own personal devil whispers again and its set of claws digs into Loki's sides.

_No._

"No?" Thanos' laughter borders mania. "It was you who asked this first: What has made you so soft? I thought you were cold inside, dead? What harm would it do?"

Loki's breath hitches and out of the dark he plunges into another vision. His body is the monster's puppet, a marionette, a toy to be played with.

He remembers the scene Thanos forces him to relive. They were alone, him and her, in the lab that one night and she had just come back to grab her coat. Her heady perfume hangs in the air and her body is so close to his as she plunges forward to stretch for the piece of clothing, her hand brushing his arm – _by accident, on purpose?_

He remembers the want that had taken hold of him, uncontrollably but oh so welcome.

Thanos is still there, hidden, in his head. "What kept you from moving?"

Everything and nothing. There are borders even Loki would not cross. Even in his darkest hour, he could never sink so low.

The more he fights, the more Thanos pushes. The devil feeds on his victim's misery with a heartless laugh. "Why? You wanted her, you take her, is it not that easy? Is that not what you want to do?"

_Not like this._

"Now, is this maybe even more than affection? Is this care?"

To answer would be redundant. The creature has seen his heart – and he _knows_.

Sharp claws tear at his pulse and a pair of loose lips press to his ear. "Of all the things that could make you weak – you choose to bind yourself to someone else. Must I remind you what that means? What that makes her?"

Despite the darkness, Loki reflexively closes his eyes. _What I don't see can be ignored._ A child's prayer.

"Mark my words, traitor of Asgard: I will find her, as well as I found you. And it will be my pleasure to introduce her to the consequences of making herself a demon's whore."

With closed eyes, Loki shakes his head. _This is between you and me_.

"Which is why she is fit to teach you what happens to those who bite the hand that fed them. Too bad you never took the time to properly indulge in her – but I will make sure the fear of you will be the last thing you'll see in her eyes before they close."

He loses the control and the memory blends seamlessly over into fantasy. It is all blurred and yet crystal clear. As if pulled by a wire, he snatches forward and violently grabs the helpless girl. It's his hands that clench around Darcy's throat, while the other rips at her clothing, at her thin sweater and pushes her against the next best surface, his other hand pressing against the bobbing ball in her throat until all she can do is gurgle.

It is his hand and yet it is not.

He smashes her down onto the floor, making a muffled sound as the back of her head hits the cold stone and for a moment, she loses consciousness. First her pants, then her underwear make way until she is bare at his feet.

In the back of his head, Loki is still present and disgust twists his insides at the sight of the helpless woman, so innocent, so merciless in the hands of a bastard.

"Don't fret, my frozen lackey. You will get your _use_ out of her – and I will make sure she'll remember you just for what you are: a soulless beast."

He knows he would never do this and yet he is forced to live every second of it.

These raw, foreign hands pull at the strings of his trousers and he releases himself and hovers over the poor shivering creature. Her eyes snap open but before she can react, he presses her down with his own weight and muffles her cries as he slams into her, indifferent to the hurt and the damage he might do, an animal that takes but does not care. Doesn't see the tears that dwell from her beautiful eyes or the fear that mirrors in them, does not feel the blood its actions draw from her pristine skin, doesn't hear the shrieks she emits. Doesn't stop until it is done and has found what it had come for. Until she is broken beneath him, physically and morally.

It is like a nightmare in which he is unable to move. Bound to see, bound to endure, bound to _feel,_ the control over his body and actions in the hand of Thanos_. _

The lifeless remains of what once was a lively woman beneath him sobs and the sound makes his heart bleed. '_Why?_' her eyes seem to ask as his misguided hands wraps around her bruised throat and with the smallest pressure and a hollow crack, he breaks her neck and watches the last drop of life trickle out of her gaze.

The broken and battered body at his feet dissolves into smoke and darkness embraces him again, almost comforting after the horrible image that is imprinted on his vision. There is an itch in his throat and in the corners of his eyes he tries to ignore.

The piercing voice reaches him again. "As you might already know, I am true to my word. And I will find her and make her pay, in front of your eyes, as long as I wish to. Until she is begging me to release her."

Thanos' husky tone glides down Loki's back like a trail of ice. The lump he wants to swallow gets stuck in his throat and he can almost see what awaits him. Darcy, in pain, in tears, covered in blood, brought to her mental and physical boundaries, all because of _him _and his bloody ignorance.

"Will you beg as well, for her, for mercy? I am sure you will. Pray to me, beg me not to humiliate, not to harm her. But, have a guess, my supplicant? You will beg in vain. She will pay for your betrayal."

It is the last word he hears as he feels himself being plunged through the deepest darkness out of his dream.

* * *

As quickly as the impulse to kiss him has come, the bad conscience grabs her and Darcy pulls back. Not only is she watching him sleep, no, cue the molesting smooch.

Yet she can't hold back her hand that strokes some strands of her from his forehead while the other one still clings to his hand.

Nothing in his bearing gives hint to what follows. With an almost painfully loud draw of breath, Loki's eyes snap open and his hand clasps hers as he jumps into a sitting position.

Darcy doesn't even have time to scream out of shock. Her limbs are frozen and her tongue tied in surprise at his sudden awakening.

His breath hitches over and over again like little hick-ups and his eyes are blood-shot and wide open like those of a deer in the headlight. He steadfastly stares at her like he has never seen her before.

Darcy's voice is the first to return to its old use. "Loki..." she hushes unbelievingly and grips his hand tighter. "Loki, are you okay?"

Is she real?, he wonders, afraid to have tumbled into one of Thanos' mirages again. She looks so real, the plush lips parted with disbelief, her eyes almost comically wide and so blue, and the warmth of her hand against his is heavenly soothing. The contrast between the shattered body of his nightmare and the lively girl by his side is a sight for sore eyes.

The fact that it is him who wills his free hand to move to cup her face proves him that he has escaped the monster's grasp and with timid movements, he threads his fingers through her brown hair.

She needs to know he cares about her – before anything happens that might take his chance away for good.

Loki swallows his anxiety and in one swift movement, his lips capture hers, determined, yet tender. To his own surprise and delight, she leans into his touch and her hand takes hold of his hair as well, an almost ferocious grip, fed by care and relief.

He does not dare to go further and smoothly, he pulls back again. Darcy's eyes appear almost impossibly wider and he can see the tons of questions piling up in that beautiful head of hers.

He gives her hand an assuring squeeze. _Later_. Later he will show her how much he really cares.

The young woman by his side seems to understand and returns the gesture, her thumb stroking the back of his hand. Later.

Her eyes still on his, she leans back and shouts: "Thor? Guess who's up and alive."

* * *

Later. And he's glad they agreed on it.

His hands on the soft cushions of her hips guide her up and down while his head is buried in the mass of brown curls that contrast against the perfect marble of her shoulders.

Her head is pressed against his, her hands clawing and scratching at his shoulders while her sweet breath strokes his ears and whispers his name like a prayer. "Loki..."

Her tone is almost worshipping and the way her flawless curves press against his chest, rubbing their way up and down with the glide of her hips is almost like a sacrifice for the divinity in him, presenting herself and all she has to offer to him, his for the taking.

Later, when they both have caught a glimpse at Valhalla in a tumble of sweet oblivion, he has her in his arms and all he can do is stare again.

She chuckles, almost uncomfortable with the way he refuses to take his eyes off her.

"What's with the look, dark prince? Don't you like what you see?"

He manages to produce a grin. "And here I thought I had showed my appreciation properly."

Her rosy lips reveal a sweet smile and she kisses his mouth. "Of course you did." She pulls back and throws him a thoughtful glance. "I'm having a hard time figuring you out, you know?"

"Why?" His arms wind around her tighter and he can feel the perfect roundness of her breast against him.

"Here you are, all attached and cuddly, all of the sudden – not that I'd mind, though," her fingernails trail down his spine to emphasize her words, "but why can't I shake the feeling that it has something to do with your little hypnotherapy session?" Her kind eyes lock with his and deep down he knows he could tell her every single thing.

She's smart, that is evident. Another one of her seemingly manifold qualities. But he is not ready to tell her. Not now, not yet. Right now, all he wants to do is hold her, keep her and let her mesmerize and fascinate him.

Right now, all he wants to do is to protect her from whatever that is waiting in the dark for her.

"I never claimed it didn't. Maybe I just learned to seize each day and night," Loki's hands wander down her body and pull at her lower back, closer to him, tighter in his grasp, "and everything it has to offer."

He can see she is not content with his answer and maybe she can even detect the evasive tone in his voice. Maybe she is too clever to be fooled by him.

Still, instead of poking, she chooses to kiss him and he knows that for the moment, she chooses to seize the day and the night as well – and he admires her for that.

One day, he will tell her. One day, he might be ready to love her, properly, fully, like she deserves.

And until that day, that he vows, he will keep her safe.

* * *

**Notes: I am not one hundred percent happy with this, but I still wanted to share since so many of you were disappointed with the ending!**


End file.
